Disclaimer: They are only one loan from their much more talented creators. All that's mine is the plot.
A.N.: AU of indeterminate timeline that I wrote because I liked the idea and thought it was fun. I, like all authors, love to read reviews. I can handle raves, constructive critiques... anything except flames. If you hate it that much, maybe you shouldn't have read the whole thing. Just a thought... Enjoy!
Often it's the person you least expect who does it. Others watching on think it's all so obvious, but then when it's their turn it is as shocking a thing as they can imagine. You never see it coming and then by chance one day you realize the truth… this is it. This is the person you were meant to be with and while you may notice or be briefly intrigued by others, no one else could ever hold the place in your heart and life that this one individual crept in and stole for their own. The problem arises when you come to this amazing discovery and it hits you that you are the only one thinking that way. I probably ought to back up a little bit.
I'm just an average girl. Well, I do have these white streaks in my hair even though I'm only 20 years old. Okay, I also spend a lot of time training in combat techniques and help teach younger kids to fight hand-to-hand at the Institute. Other than that and the whole absorption thing where every time I make skin-to-skin contact with another person I absorb their energy, memories, thought patterns, personality traits, and sometimes special 'skills' they have, I am just a typical, all-American girl from the south. I have almost changed the civilized world as we know it, but that wasn't really my fault so I don't really count that. So maybe average and typical aren't the most accurate terms, but the fact is that inside I feel all the same things, share the same longings, and have the same hopes shared by most girls my age.
For example, there's this guy. He's older than me, but not by all that much. He is kind of a 'bad boy', but that's mostly for show. We've become friends and I really enjoy hanging out with him, even if we show it in weird ways. We argue. A lot. But we both kind of enjoy it and never say anything that would really hurt the other person's feelings or anything. It's kind of like a game between us. Part of the reason we're such good friends is that we both accept each other as is, flaws and all. Like, well, I can't touch anyone. He's cool with it for the most part. But he's big on pushing my boundaries. I know part of that is that he's convinced I can get control over it if I keep working on it and thinks I'd be so much happier so he thinks he's helping with that. He's right about being happier, of course. When he invades my space I still want to kick his butt, though. Actually, I spend a lot of time wanting to take him on.
One of the things I've had to put up with when dealing with him is that he's a total player. I mean, we all live at the school together. He teaches French and we both do other work for the owner also. So, there are a lot of people here and he just constantly flirts with everything female. Older women, younger girls, even married/committed women. If it's female and legal, it's fair game to him. How obnoxious! Even more annoying, though, is that they almost all fall for it to some extent. Even though most would never follow up on it, they still blush, simper, giggle (the worst, in my opinion), or totally flirt back.
He eats up the attention like a starving man. It really is enough to make me crazy sometimes. He knows it, too. Remy, that's his name; he realizes how much it irritates me when he lets those girls just coo over him and smile up at him likes he's some kind of god. Alright, to be fair while he doesn't fight them off or anything, I've never actually seen or heard of him taking any of them up on their blatant offers since he's arrived. Even though we're such close friends, though, it's not like he talks to me about his love life. I mean, that would just be, well… awkward.
Anyway, the thing about my friend is that I kind of think I'm starting to see him in another way. Fine. I'll admit that I've always seen the potential for more than friendship between us, but I have always been able to push it back. Lately, though, it's almost as though I've lost all control over my emotions. Every time I see him my pulse speeds up and I can feel the heating of my body causing a slight flush on my face. That I fear he'll see it only makes it worse and I start full-out blushing like some kid. I mean, really it's reaching the point of being ridiculous.
So I tried all the usual ways of dealing with it. First I denied it. Of course that did no real good. It only made me feel worse every time we were together and I was cranky. I'm not exactly known as Miss Congeniality anyway so when it was bad enough that the other people living here started commenting on it, I knew it must be pretty bad. Next there was the distraction technique. It's not like he's the only guy in the school, after all. I spent time with a few of the other guys here and even went out for a few dates, but it always ended the same way. They knew and I did, too, that it just wasn't there. Apparently I make a great friend, but I am not destined to be a 'girlfriend' to any of them. The truth is that's good with me because I think it would feel like I was trying to date my brother or cousin or something. Just… no.
After that there was the grand avoidance plan. Yeah… so he thought I was being a total freak and practically stalked me trying to find out what was wrong with me. Not the most effective way of steering clear of someone. Finally I came up with the acceptance scheme. And that is pretty much where I'm at now… I accept that I apparently have some deeper feelings for my good friend and that he doesn't have those feelings for me. It sucks.
She wasn't sure about this whole "journal" thing the professor wanted her to try out, but she'd promised to give it an honest effort. Rogue sighed deeply before setting aside her journal and letting her mind dwell on Remy. Rolling her eyes she decided it was time for this little obsession to be set aside for the time being and stashed her journal under her mattress near the head of the bed. Now she would indulge in a nice long bath before lounging around with a book and maybe a cup of coffee or something. A lazy, girly evening was the perfect way to pass the rest of the night. She didn't do this often enough.
Remy was on his way down to the garage where he planned to work on his bike a bit. He was basically killing time. The guys had gone to a movie and he just wasn't interested in going out. Logan and Scott were tying up the game room TV with a hockey game and other than Logan and Rogue there weren't very many here worth challenging to a game of pool. Rogue was busy with something in her room, so here he was finding something to do. He'd passed Stormy, but she was on her way out with the Professor for some meeting.
As he passed through the kitchen a group of girls let out a chorus of flirtatious voices calling, "Hi, Remy!" Honestly, he wasn't any more in the mood for the coy lilting tones or the few bolder hands that reached out to grab his arms than he was for the movie he'd already turned down. "Mademoiselles," he returned with a smirk and a nod. He kept moving, though. For some reason he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts this evening.
His mind turned to Rogue. This wasn't a big surprise since his thoughts dwelled on her more often than not. He didn't think it odd at all, really. She was tres belle, sexy, sassy, smart, fun, and could play a mean game of pool. She knew more about motorcycles than any other girl he'd met and while he could beat her hands down in any card game, she could at least put up a little fight. And then there was the drawl that oozed from her lips every time she spoke. That accent of hers was something else… he'd never tire of it he was sure. He could listen to her read the phone book and be both content and turned on at the same time.
The fille managed to be a great friend and one of the most tempting women he'd ever been around all at once. She was really easy to be around, but at the same time he was uncomfortable with their relationship. She was a huge part of the reason why he'd even come to the Institute. He wasn't ashamed to admit it. He wanted her. Not for his usual tumble, satisfying as he made them for the women involved, but for more. Only once before had he been willing to enter into anything truly lasting with a woman and what a disaster that had turned into.
He'd been doing it for all the wrong reasons then. Now, though, with Rogue… it was so very different. He truly cared for her. She was so many things to him. He reached for the socket wrench before focusing on her again. Oui, she was his best friend, the teammate who challenged him both physically and mentally, and the woman he wanted and couldn't have.
Of all the femmes I've met, why did Rogue have to be the one to be completely immune to moi? She never seemed to respond to his advances with anything other than sarcasm or cynicism. The only one he had any real interest in was the only one who didn't care and refused to believe his sincerity. Then there was the way she'd been acting up until earlier this week. Out of the blue, she'd started acting really strange and was constantly dodging him. Why the sudden change he didn't know, but he'd been determined to find out what he'd done to upset her. He never did find out, but at least things had gone back to normal eventually. He'd been missing his chere. Remy tossed the wrench back in the toolbox before releasing a harsh breath and letting his head bounce back to the unforgiving concrete floor. Merde!
Maybe some of the hommes were back now. He could use some company. This whole 'time with his thoughts' thing wasn't as relaxing as it had sounded in theory. Now he'd give almost anything for a bit of distraction from the only real problem in his life at the moment. He made his way back into the cool interior and after a quick shower to clean up, wandered down the stairs again. Turning the corner his eyes were met with the enchanting sight of his best friend's rounded curves and bright silky hair as she stood in indecision in the shadows outside the kitchen doorway. He drank in the vision for a moment before stealing up silently behind her.
Rogue had come downstairs for a snack and drink only to find the kitchen filled with other people. She paused in the hallway trying to decide just how badly she needed the food and drink. After the peacefulness of her room, it was almost overwhelming to have the noise of so many voices assaulting her suddenly. She was still lingering, thinking longingly of the cold drinks in the fridge when familiar hands settled over her shoulders. She smiled, knowing without turning her head who stood behind her.
His breath brushed her ear as he leaned to murmur, "What you doin', mon chere?" Before she could answer he chuckled. "Let me guess… you wan' som'ting from de kitchen, but don' wanna deal wit' all dose friends."
"Got it in one, Cajun." Even with his ability to read others, it still amazed her just how astute he was when it came to her moods. That was an integral part of their friendship, actually. From the moment he walked into the same room, Remy could tell what she was feeling, who she was willing to be around, and who was on her last nerve. The best part of it was that he not only knew all those things, he cared and found subtle, sometimes weird, ways of making everything easier for her. He smoothed her paths, much like her favorite guardian the burly Wolverine; he was just a great deal more discreet than Logan.
He turned her to face him and winked. "Dere's drinks up in de petite fridge in my room." See that's exactly what she meant. He was just sweet in little ways without being stupid or annoying about it. While she'd been anticipating spending the entire evening on her own for a change, perhaps she ought to reconsider.
Deciding she'd had enough time alone for now and that the prospect of time with Remy was far better than the thought of dealing with half the mansion at once, she nodded at him and they slunk quietly towards the stairs. Escaping unnoticed, the pair reached his door where he waved her in ahead of himself and reached around her to flip the lights on.
Rogue sat in the chair by his desk while he lowered himself before the mini-fridge in the corner of the room. "Okay, Roguey… I've got Coke, orange juice, an' beer." He looked over his shoulder to add, "Dere's also rum, vodka, an' bourbon. So, what's it gonna be, chere?"
She rolled her eyes stating for the millionth time, "Don't call me 'Roguey', sugar… it's annoying." Giving it a moment of thought, she surprised herself by deciding, "Actually, a rum and coke sounds pretty good." She wasn't much of a drinker, something Remy commented on frequently. At the moment it sounded all too appetizing, for some reason. Regardless, it would provide a good distraction from the whirlpool of feelings her current companion was stirring up within her.
He nodded and grabbed the soda before shutting the door and crossing to reach to the top bookshelf for the bottle of rum. Once he'd poured out, Remy handed one cup to her before settling on his bed. "So, you didn' look too eager to join de others in the kitchen. You doin' okay?"
She savored a sip of the sweet concoction before replying. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't want to bother with everyone tonight. I just wasn't up for all that noise and action, if ya' know what I mean."
He nodded in agreement. "I know 'xactly what you mean." Silence reigned for the next twenty minutes while they both just drank and relaxed in the comfortable presence of a good friend. He refilled their cups before they spoke again.
She was already drinking hers, and was starting to feel all too relaxed. "Y'know, Rems sugar, you're prob'ly one of my best friends."
He hid his smirk. She hated it when he commented on her getting buzzed so easily. She was a petite fille and couldn't help being a lightweight when it came to her alcohol. "Jus' one of 'em?" All too aware of how frustrated she got when he referred to her as 'cute', he restrained himself from saying anything about how adorable he found her to be when feeling the stirrings of intoxication.
Her head tilted as she considered his question. Remy couldn't ever remember having this reaction to anyone else, but right now he wanted nothing as fervently as he wished to yank her into his lap and kiss her long and deep. The sound of her lazy drawl had him struggling to return his attention to their conversation. "Well, yeah. I mean it's you an' Logan. Kitty, Jean, and 'Ro are really good friends, but they don't always get me, ya' know?" When he agreed, she kept on. He always thought it was so cute when she got all talkative the more she drank. Most of the time she didn't remember half of what she said by the next day, but it could be pretty entertaining. They'd had more than one 'What if c-a-t really spells dog' kind of conversation when she let go like this. "D'ya think it's cause I've got so many guys rattlin' around in mah head?" There was the wonderful drawl making its appearance. He couldn't hold in his smile any more. His quizzical expression let her know he wasn't keeping up with her train of thought. "Whah Ah'm bettah freyands with two men than with eny of tha girls heah," she explained.
Once he'd done his quick mental translation, Remy turned his attention to her theory. "I dunno. Maybe. You've got femmes up dere, too, dough. Who do ya' hear de most?"
She thought long and hard on that one. Finely arched brows scrunched together in concentration. "Ya' know, since the prof. helped me control them better, I pretty much hear from you and sometimes Wolvie with the others only showin' up once in awhile."
"Dat's probably it, then. Ya're jus' more used ta us."
"Or it could be that Ah heah from y'all moah 'cuz I lahke ya' bettah."
He studied her closely. "Dat could be it, too, chere."
Looking as though she was contemplating the meaning of life, if her expression was anything to go by, Rogue held her glass out at arms length in silent demand for a refill. "I can't do it, chere. Dere's no more coke."
"Bourbon'll do," was all she mumbled, shaking the glass a bit to emphasize the need for more. He gave her a healthy dose and resumed his place on the bed, leaning back on one elbow.
That drink was half gone before she managed to find the words to frame her thoughts. She started to rise to her feet only to sway precariously before sensing the wisdom of coming closer to him on her knees instead. She knelt at his feet, her chin propped on his knee before she asked in her most serious tones, "Why d'ya call meh Roguey, sug'?"
It would have been impossible not to laugh at least a little bit. "Is dat what you been over dere t'inkin' about?" When she nodded vigorously, digging her chin into his leg painfully, he answered with a question of his own. "Why does it bother you so much?"
Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she shot quickly, "It's so danged 'cutesy' soundin'. Tha's not meh, ya' know?"
He would have disagreed since he thought she looked sweetly appealing right now, but he knew she wouldn't appreciate it. "Well, chere, I guess we jus' need to come up wit' somet'in' better then."
Now her cheek was nestled against his thigh while she contemplated the possibilities. Her arm holding the now empty glass shot straight up demanding yet more. "Don' you t'ink you've had 'nough?"
Her hair swayed as she shook her head adamantly. "How 'bout some juice?" he tried again, thinking if he offered a different option she might lay off the alcohol.
"Okay," she agreed, still deep in thought. "With vodka," came her absentminded addendum.
Shaking his head as he thought about the hangover she'd be nursing in the morning, he did as she'd asked. He didn't add much vodka, though.
One sip later she looked up at him and shoved the glass back in his direction. "Swamp Rat…" she growled in warning. He sighed and fixed the screwdriver properly.
Her hand gripped his leg to keep him from sitting while she savored the first gulp. Swallowing in satisfaction, Rogue patted his leg the same way a person would pat a dog in praise. "Better," she allowed.
"Ef ya' don' wan' 'cute', den what kind of name d'ya wan'?"
She crawled up on the bed after gulping down about a third of the drink at once so it wouldn't spill. Rogue leaned against him while they talked. "Hm, Ah dunno. Ah guess Ah could live with somethin' mean-soundin'."
He shook his head in refusal. "Wouldn' be much of a pet name dat way."
She nodded sagely, "That's true." More was drained from the glass she clutched. "Would sexy work for ya'?" She rolled her head to peer up at him from under lids heavy from the drinks she'd consumed.
Remy cleared his throat before replying, "Yeah, chere, sexy works for me."
He heard her mumbling the word sexy under her breath over and over as she worked to come up with something new for him to call her. "Tha's dumb."
"What's dumb, chere?" He was having trouble keeping up.
"Callin' it a 'pet nahme'. I's not lahke Ah'm ya' pet. Ah'm not a dawg or enythang."
"Non, chere, but dat's not de only meaning for 'pet'." She gave him a perplexed look. "It can mean someone ya treat special, like bein' de 'teacher's pet', right?" he explained.
Her mouth rounded in understanding. "Oh! Raht. Gotcha." She continued to ponder the problem while draining the remainder of her screwdriver. "How 'bout somet'in French?"
He took the empty tumbler from her slack grip and placed it on the nightstand. Remy lay back against his pillow, his arms crossed behind his head. When Rogue followed, letting her head land on his arm, he curled it around her. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the feel of her silky hair against his skin. "You're takin' dis pretty seriously, chere."
"I's 'portant. It shows ev'ryone how ya' think of meh, raht?"
"I suppose dat's true."
"So, ya' gotta get it raht, dontcha think?" Her bright eyes were studying him and he turned to look back steadily. His hand rose to brush one wayward strand from where it clung to full, lush lips before agreeing. "So a French word thet fits ya', huh?" In her present condition it was taking an awful lot of concentration. He'd been teaching her French throughout their friendship and she'd picked up quite a bit. She understood far more than she could speak, but was a quick study overall. "Well theyah's alwahs 'plaisir'," she suggested.
He almost choked. "Um, I don' know ef dat's de best choice, chere," he finally managed. Where did she even learn plaisir, he wondered? It meant love in a sexual sense. While he wished that were an accurate description, it would probably be best not to have to translate for anyone, especially her other 'best friend', Logan. "Mebbe 'beb'," he offered, hoping she would accept it and not continue filling his head with the vivid images now inundating his mind.
"Wha's thet mean?" she wanted to know.
"Well, it basically means 'favorite person', chere. And dat's what you are, so dat soun's 'bout right to me. Whatcha say?" She did not need the exact translation to worry over. It literally meant sweetheart or darling. That was basically the same as favorite, right?
She rubbed her voluptuous body against his side and murmured, "Soun's good, sugah." After torturing him with her ingenuous nuzzling and nestling ever more intimately against him, she barely muttered, "G'naht, Remy sugah. Luv ya'," before falling soundly into a deep sleep.
Remy remained wakeful for a long time before allowing fatigue to claim him. While he waited, he pondered what the unknown emotions racing throughout him in reaction to her mumbled declaration could mean. Deciding it was too late for such deep contemplation; he put it off until tomorrow and allowed oblivion to claim him. His final thoughts included thankfulness that tomorrow was Sunday and they could sleep in with no repercussions and that the sensation of her soft, generous curves molding themselves to his frame were more comforting, relaxing, sensual, and most-importantly 'right' than any feeling he'd ever experienced before.
It wasn't until the sun was high in the sky the following morning that either of them began to stir. During the night they'd shifted together and had maneuvered until they were intertwined with their legs wrapped tightly around one another's. Her gloved hands were tangled in his hair while one of his clenched in her shirt, bunching it against her hip, and his other had come up to cradle one breast. His face was pillowed between those lush mounds and her pelvis was ground intimately against his thigh.
She was the first to begin waking. Still caught in that nebulous place between sleep and wakefulness, she didn't really react to the situation, but just let herself revel in it. After only a few minutes, she felt the hand on her breast tighten instinctively and could do nothing to hide her body's reaction to his touch. He rubbed his face against her chest to rid himself of the last vestiges of sleep.
"Mmm," he moaned without opening his eyes "Mornin', mon couer." Honestly, she figured he just said it without thinking… some kind of knee-jerk reaction to yet another willing female body pressing against his as he awakens. He rubbed his scruffy face against her breast one more time, nearly sending her heart pounding right out of her chest. "Roguey," he muttered. That did surprise her. He must be more awake than she'd thought. He nestled down again and was soon deeply asleep once more.
Okay, now she was just plain confused. The hand on her back clutched a couple of times before smoothing over her shirt and coming to rest against the curve of her bottom. Eventually the need to use the restroom superseded her need to enjoy this rare closeness with another. She tried just scooting to the side, but he immediately tugged her close once more. Wriggling out from under him had even more embarrassing results though. That woke him more fully. First he smiled, then Remy opened his eyes and his brows drew together, then his expression cleared and he simply asked, "Where you goin'?"
A hint of pink in her cheeks, she confessed, "Ah need to use tha bathroom."
"Mph," he grunted before flopping onto his back, releasing her with no awkwardness at the way he had been groping her unconsciously. "Remy'll be waitin', beb."
She was almost to the bathroom door when that made her pause and turn. "What'd you call me?"
"Beb… we talked about meh callin' ya' somet'in diffren' last night. Ya wen' wit' beb."
"What are ya' talkin' about? What does beb mean anyway?"
"Ya' go on an' den we'll talk when ya' get back, Roguey."
"Grrr…. Don't call me 'Roguey'!" she ordered without any real heat before shutting the door firmly.
When she reentered the room, she perched primly on the edge of his bed. Remy studied her briefly before yanking her backwards, causing her to tumble over his chest. He rotated until she was snuggled comfortably in her original place the only difference being that he had one hand behind his head and his nearer hand resting on her firm yet soft stomach, her warmth seeping through the thin cotton shirt readily.
"Now… dere was dis whole big t'ing wit' you not carin' for de name 'Roguey' an' wantin' a diffren' name for Remy ta call you. Aftah some ideas got toss'd 'round, we decided on beb." His hand had been forming lazy circles on her stomach as he spoke, almost mesmerizing her. "An' beb pretty much means favorite person which you are so dat's it."
There wasn't much she felt she could say to all this. She hated not remembering their talks the morning after they'd been drinking. She could never even know for sure that he was telling the complete truth. She just had to take it on faith and trust him not to lie to her. For the most part, that wasn't too difficult. Sometimes, though, there was a glint in his red-on-black eyes that led her to believe that he left things out of his retelling of events.
"Rems?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatcha doin?" she indicated his hand on her with a flick of her wrist.
"Remy rubbin' his beb's belly, why?" he wanted to know.
She began to pout at his deliberate obtuseness. His private phone rang. She knew only his closest family had the number, so she turned to go, granting him privacy. He anchored her in place with a touch while answering the phone with his other hand.
"Yeah," was his only greeting.
He listened for a brief moment before answering, "Nuttin. Jus' watchin' mon beb make a big bahbin (pouting expression). Where you at?" A longer pause and his fingers were gliding over her. "Don' matta. Don be so coo-yon," he sounded disgusted. She knew this one… it meant don't be such a fool. Now he laughed before a few more phrases she didn't really understand and then he was disconnecting the call.
"So, you wanna rest more or go fin' somet'ing to eat?" Finally what she was allowing him to do really registered and she slapped his hand away.
"Quit with your flirting, Remy!" She sat up and faced him fully. "I'm not just another one of your easy girlfriends."
"Remy be glad ya' fin'ly know dat!" he grew just as frustrated as her. When would she accept that he wasn't the he-slut she kept making him into? Okay, so maybe he wasn't known for his dedicated ways with women, but she wasn't just another woman. She was special… He reached out to stroke down the side of her hair, his look tender.
She reacted as she always did when he tried to bare his soul to her; she laughed it off and treated the whole thing as a joke. "Cut it out, Rems! C'mon… I'm hungry."
Rogue decided to change clothes first. Telling him she'd see him downstairs, she turned to go to her own room. She'd almost reached her door when she bumped into Logan. "Morning!" she greeted him, starting to steer around him only to be jerked to a halt.
His large, familiar hand gripped her firmly, but gently enough to not be uncomfortable. "Is there some reason you've got the Gumbo's stink all over you?"
"It's nothing, really. We were hanging out in his room last night just to have a quiet break, you know, and I fell asleep."
Logan sniffed again and gave her a knowing look. "And just how much did you have to drink, darlin'?"
Sheepishly hanging her head and shrugging one shoulder she confessed, "Not sure." Even though she mumbled so low it was barely audible, Logan heard her without problem. His rare laugh barked out and he patted her on the shoulder. "Next time you come see me, Stripes. I don't trust that Cajun 'round you, okay?"
Rolling her eyes the same way she had as a teenager she vented a little. "You know, Logan… I'm actually not an imbecile. He isn't really interested in me. Gambit loves playing the women even more than he does playing with those dumb cards. I'm just a challenge. The man can't stand that I've never caved. The minute I did, though, he'd be on to the next willing body and our friendship would be ten different kinds of screwed up." She sagged against the wall and looked up at her hero from under lowered lids, "Besides, it's not like I can do anything physical anyway and we both know that's what he's all about."
Rogue didn't know what reaction she'd expected, but his laughing louder and more freely than she'd ever heard wasn't it. "Congratulations. There were so many things wrong with what you just said, you've left me with no real response."
"What?"
He only shook his head and stifled his remaining amusement. "Now's not the time, Stripes. Let's just say," he began ticking points off on his fingers as he spoke, "I know, bull crap, tough call, true to a point, true enough that I ought to gut the guy, I don't think so, the kid's creative enough that he could probably come up with way more than ten ways to deal in just minutes so like hell you can't, and I'm not so sure."
By now she was confounded and her mind was racing back over their conversation as she desperately tried to line up his comments with her earlier ones. "Well crap!" was all she could mutter. Knowing she'd failed to remember everything and was now totally frustrated he chuckled again before advising her. "You might wanna get dressed, darlin'. Aren't you supposed to help me teach shop in less than an hour?"
He sauntered off while she checked her watch. "CRAP!" came out in a loud accented shout followed immediately by her feet pounding the rest of the way to her room and the door flinging open and shut. My girl sure is fun!
She yelled for Remy to come in when he stopped by to walk down with her after about twenty minutes. Racing from her bathroom with her hair bouncing in its pony tail and a pair of jeans with her shirt and gloves she looked like she was fifteen again. "Ah've got shop with Logan in just ovah half an hour."
Wasting no more time, they left to eat a hasty meal together before she headed for the garage while he went to help program some new simulations for Danger Room training, as he'd told Ororo he would. Rogue walked quickly through the halls only to halt just before the door to the garage. She checked her watch to ensure she wasn't too late and was relieved to note she'd managed to make it just in time. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing pulse from the rush in getting here, she reached for the handle.
Logan glanced at the assorted teenaged boys assembled for the class and saw they were staring with a bit too much interest at the door. Spying what had snagged their attention sashaying across the concrete floor a ready smile on her face he breathed deeply only to find his nose flooded with the scent of almost a dozen teenaged boys with raging hormones responding to the obvious charms of a certain southerner. A low growl rumbled ominously into the room. He readily recognized that his girl was a looker … he could even live with Gumbo and some of those other guys sitting up and taking notice, but there was no way he was letting these snot-nosed little perverts feast their eyes on his favored girl!
Most of them got the message loud and clear. One apparent idiot had to receive a smack in the back of his head before he figured it out. Shaking it off, he looked around confused until Logan's intimidating glare came into view and then it all clicked into place. Oh. "Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, are ya' kid?"
He started telling them what he'd planned for them to do that day and she moved to his side casting a few sympathetic looks around at the boys who looked a bit nervous regarding their ability to measure up since the rebuild Logan had them starting was very involved. He wasn't exactly renowned for his patience, either.
She positioned herself by the youngest boys present and gave them a lot of helpful tips and guidance. She walked them through the initial steps and didn't leave them until they'd gained a little confidence. After that she wandered, offering suggestions when she noticed people getting off-track. Spending so much time with the guys at the Brotherhood and then hanging out with Logan, Remy, and even Scott she'd learned a lot and had become very skilled in the garage.
The session was almost over when she remembered she was supposed to go out with Kitty. She sidled over to Logan and whispered in his ear. "Hey, I've gotta go. Ah promised Kit we'd go out. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, you go on, Stripes. Have fun," he added.
She and Kitty were about to snag a set of keys when Kitty's cell phone rang. It was the flavor of the month, so Rogue settled in for a long wait. Five minutes later, Rogue was twirling her hair around one finger staring sightlessly into space while Kitty giggled and simpered from the chair she'd sunk into with her legs dangling over the arm.
Fifteen minutes more passed and they were still in the same positions when Remy swaggered into the room. Kitty shot him a flirtatious glance and smile. Rogue still hadn't noticed him. He gave the younger girl a wave, and then held one finger before his pursed lips as he snuck up behind her companion. Rogue's hair had grown longer now, which he loved, and she'd left behind the goth make-up leaving her skin so fresh and natural making her even more appealing than when they'd first met.
He drew up behind her and blew gently on a small bit of pale skin exposed between the parted curtain of silky waves of hair. Rogue's verdant eyes squinted in annoyance as she swatted listlessly behind her head with a huge sigh at Kitty's continued cooing over the phone.
Remy smirked before leaning in to blow against the milky flesh again. "Is there a window open somewhere? Where'd these stupid flies come from?"
Kitty snickered and couldn't hide the glance that darted behind Rogue's seat to where Remy stood trying to look innocent. Rogue swung her head around to see who was behind her. Her eyes narrowed before she turned back to her friend's reclining figure. "Seriously, Kit… are we going or what?" She refused to rise to his bait. He loved getting her riled up and the best way to irritate was to ignore him. She knew this from long experience.
He huffed at her neglect. Kitty asked what's-his-name to hold for a moment and muted the phone so she could urge, "Why don't you two go ahead. I'm going to be on this call for a while longer."
"But-," Rogue started to protest Kitty's acting as though the plan had included Remy all along, but the other girl had already turned back to her other conversation.
"Let's go, beb," he coaxed charmingly with a hand to her back. She thought she felt something on her head and then figured it was just a breeze ruffling her hair as they walked out the door to his waiting motorcycle. He knew from the way she acted that she never realized he's kissed the top of her head as he ushered her from the mansion. He'd never thought to be in this position, but he'd been reduced to being glad for what few liberties he was able to snatch without her knowledge.
She stopped short of his destination and looked at him skeptically. "Wait a minute! I never agreed to go anywhere with you. In fact, you never even asked." She'd crossed her arms and her sparkling emerald eyes shone up at him, lit by that spark that was just a part of her. He smirked at her and draped one arm over her shoulder, still facing her and then leaning in close to her face.
Before he could say whatever he'd planned on, Logan arrived having passed through and spying Kitty on her phone with no Rogue in sight. He'd sniffed out her location and had managed to catch her challenge to Remy's claim on her time. "Hey Stripes what happened to you going with Kitty?"
"Well, whichever guy it is this month called and she ditched me to talk to him. Then Remy showed up and… well, I'm not really sure what's goin' on?" For some reason she couldn't understand Rogue was suddenly flustered.
"I'm done for the day here. Do ya' feel like getting some coffee or something?" He shifted his weight, that being the only sign of his discomfort.
It wasn't very often they had time alone… away from everyone else. She grinned at Logan and agreed right away. "That sounds great!" Remembering Remy and not wanting him to feel left out or cast aside, since he certainly was not someone she would ever cast aside willingly, she eagerly swung back to the Cajun. "Doesn't that sound nice, Rems? Where do you want to go?"
Both men looked totally uncomfortable now. Rogue may have mistaken Logan's intent, but Remy knew exactly what he'd meant. Logan rubbed the back of his neck as Remy shoved his hands in the deep pockets of his trench coat. They exchanged ill at ease looks before Remy graciously turned down the offer. "Dat's real nice of you to t'ink of Remy, but dere's somet'in else Remy gotta take care of so you an' Wolvie go on an' have fun, beb."
Not until after she'd reluctantly bid Remy goodbye and they'd arrived in the parking lot of a local bar did they speak. Rogue was handing her helmet over to him when he asked, "What's with the 'beb' stuff? What does it mean?"
"He said it's something like special person or favorite person or something. It beats Roguey, though, right?" she asked, laughing at the hated nickname.
His attempt to chuckle with her failed and he just rasped a little before agreeing, "Yeah, I guess it does." They'd been walking towards the entrance. Logan reached around her to open the door and hold it for her. She looked up at him in pleased surprise. "Thanks, Logan." "Any time, Stripes," he assured, his voice rich with deeper meaning.
She just looked confused before brushing it off. "Two, please," she told the man waiting to lead them to their seats. They enjoyed a leisurely meal together and were lingering over coffee, hot and strong when she noticed the time. "Oh, hey! We're going to be late for the DR session if we don't get a move on."
He reached for her arm and looked at her watch. "You're right. I'll pay and meet ya' outside."
"Okay," she smiled, loving his easy way of accommodating her needs without embarrassing either of them. His matter-of-fact acceptance of the fact that anyone who'd downed three mugs of regular coffee after drinking two large iced teas would need to use the restroom was typical and exemplified why he was one of her best friends.
She joined him beside the bike and strapped on her helmet before swinging one leg over the seat and snugging herself against his back, wrapping her arms around his rippling abs and aligning her thighs with his. The speeds at which Logan traveled demanded her close contact with him to insure her safety. "Ready when you are," she let him know before feeling the thrill that always accompanied the throb of a finely tuned Harley engine gunning as she straddled it.
He focused his entire being on ignoring the tempting scent of her excitement during their ride and quickly walked with her to the locker rooms in the lower levels where they parted company at the women's door. Logan couldn't take much more and was extremely relieved that he had a valid reason for getting some distance between them. In the DR session everyone fought full-out, but when Rogue went down after being winged by a laser beam Remy was just the slightest bit faster than Logan in reaching her side. Flinging cards faster than anyone had ever seen he held off the Sentinel as Logan came and tossed Rogue over his shoulder as easily as though she were a bag of feathers.
The pair had her out of the heat of battle in mere seconds, with her yelling protests the entire way. She smacked his butt… hard. "Hey!"
"Put me down already! Ah'm fine… or I would be ef you two would give meh an ever-lovin' break! I'm barely hurt, fer Pete's sake! Y'all ahre really stahtin to chap mah behind."
"Beb, we wuz jes' tryin' ta' watch over ya'," Remy said from where he kneeled at her side checking the wound. She tried to smack his hand away and he just grabbed her hand, raised it, pressed a heated kiss against the knuckles as the heat of his passionate gaze probed hers, and went back to checking her wound with no word spoken.
Logan stood guard with a watchful eye on every move Gambit made. His movements were efficient and capable. The bleeding was already stopped and the wound was cleaned and being tied off. Jerking free of his gentle hold, Rogue pulled away from Remy, shoved at Logan's muscular legs, and leapt to her feet.
The two men presented a rare united front, barring her way. "What do you think you're doing?" Logan demanded harshly.
"Mah job," she ground through gritted teeth.
Rogue's attempts to surge past them met with no success at all. "Git outta mah way!"
"Not happenin', Beb."
"Simulation ended," came the smooth feminine voice of the computer.
"Well, thet's jest pahfect!" she shouted throwing both hands in the air before letting them slap against her hips.
Logan had been studying Remy's patch job on her arm. "Nice work," he commented totally unconcerned with her theatrics.
"Ya' wanna move," she warned.
Before anything more could happen, Hank came to join the trio. "Miss Rogue… If you'll come with me to the lab, I'll just make sure this is nothing serious." The thing about Dr. McCoy was that it was almost impossible to be nasty to him. He was so unerringly polite and thoughtfully courteous that everyone almost always found themselves doing as he asked.
She was still angry with her guys, though. "Ah really am fahne," she assured him. Realizing she was very angered, he compromised.
"I'll just take a quick look at it here, if that's all right with you?" She nodded, relieved that at least someone was treating her like a responsible and reasonable adult.
He lifted aside the cloth and examined the minor wound. "Hmm, yes." The huge blue beast straightened up with a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I believe you'll be just fine, Miss Rogue. There will be, perhaps, a slight scar left behind, but nothing to worry over."
"Thanks, Dr. McCoy," she smiled. Her gentle smile could charm anyone and Beast was no exception. He dropped his face slightly and hemmed and hawed before backing away shyly.
Remy was speaking to her quietly, but meeting Logan's eyes over her head. Before she realized what they were doing, Logan had touched her bare skin where the beam had cut through her training suit. He maintained the touch for very little time… it was only enough to leave him lightheaded, but it was enough that her arm healed completely and the wound left no scar. "You two are such dumbasses!!"
The entire team turned to look at the three cloistered in the corner. Rogue's angry strides carried her rapidly in the direction of the door while she held one hand out at her side and asserted without looking back, "An' don't y'all even think about fahllowin' meh or Ah sweah Ah'll have yar heads on a plattah!"
Scott smirked and stated, "Gosh, guys!" His patently fake innocence was enough to have even Ororo laughing into her hand. "I think she may be a little upset with you right now." His wide eyes never flinched away… not when Logan's menacing growl made an appearance and not when Remy brandished a fan of glowing cards. When Rogue's voice floated back ominously, "An' you can shut up, Scott," he did flinch and immediately turned to join his wife.
"Kind of makes you glad to be out of the dating game, doesn't it honey?" she acknowledged. He only nodded vigorously before wrapping his arm around her waist and leaving with her on one side while Ororo walked along with them, casting a flirtatious glance Hank's way as she went.
Remy went directly to the women's locker room and followed the noises showing him where his beb had gone. "Rogue, Remy's here," he called out to keep from surprising her. "Git outta heah!" he heard her yell. "Dontcha know this is the women's locker room?"
"Oui, mon beb… but I gotta talk ta' ya'."
"Well, wait until Ah'm done in heah!"
"No, cher! We gon' settle dis now." Remy found her sitting on a bench her towels beside her and her top partially unzipped. He sat beside her, their knees brushing, and waited for her attention to belong fully to him. As her eyes slowly rose to his, he felt his heart melt. "Roguey, beb, you don' know how important you are to us, I don' t'ink." He reached to curl a tendril of her hair around one partially gloved finger. "We not gonna sit by an' do not'ing while ya' get hurt."
She'd been calming ever since he started talking. It was a combination of his soothing voice, his quiet attempts to pacify her and clarify his and Logan's actions, and the sensations that always accompanied his almost touches. Finally she relented enough to mutter, "Well, at least the two of you finally agree on something." It was the most optimistic thing she could come up with.
That got a chuckle from Remy. He sobered slightly when she gave an explanation of her own. "Y'all have got to realize, though, that you're totally undermining me and what I can do for the team. If I can't pull my weight out there," she gestured with one hand vaguely, "then I shouldn't be on the team at all. I can't be y'all's damsel in distress all the time or I'm nothing but a hindrance and should be left behind." The fire in her eager expression showed him how passionate she was about this. "I want this, Rems. I need to be a contributing member of this team. Without being an X-Man, well… this skin is nothing but a curse. At least this way I can put it to some use helping others instead of just being trapped in my own body like a prisoner."
He saw the pleading for understanding from him and he really did get what she was saying, but he knew he'd never be able to fully give her what she was asking of him. His deep voice was more serious than she'd ever heard it before. "I really do understand, honey… I'll try, but honestly I don't think ya' know what ya' askin' of meh or of Logan." Was he really speaking in the first person? The fact that he'd been doing so since joining her in the locker room finally registered. She was too stunned for a second to respond, but that left her quickly. Rogue wanted to understand a few things while they were both calm and able to think clearly and most especially while he was being so transparent with her.
"I don't get why it's so hard for y'all… You know I can handle it. You've both helped train me! The others don't get you all worked up, so why me?" Tears began to pool in her eyes. "Do y'all think I'm not ready?"
"Merde," he grunted. Before she could read his intent, he grabbed both her shoulders and began ardently kissing her, his lips slanting over hers suckling and begging hers to part and give him entry to the sweetness of her mouth. She parted her lips to protest, to yell at him to stop taking such stupid risks, but she never got the chance. His tongue immediately stroked along hers, bringing forth a keening whimper she hadn't even known she could make.
His thoughts flooded her mind, revealing to her in the best way he knew just how much it hurt him to see her in pain earlier. Rogue saw the insecurity and worry he'd felt when she and Logan went on what Remy perceived was a date. She knew that he'd fought strongly against the urge to kiss her like this once he'd seen that she really would be okay in the Danger Room. Most of all, she saw that she was a large part of his reason for being with the X-Men and that he couldn't stand the idea of her not being okay when he was there and could save her.
Nothing more made it to her mind before he gasped and pulled away. Remy was unsteady and she helped him to lie down, placing a towel under his head. He'd focused so hard to shield his thoughts, only letting through what he wanted her to know, what he thought she would accept. Even those thoughts he couldn't be certain would be well-received, but words just weren't doing it. "Didja see? D'ya know, beb?" he managed staring up at her with those mesmerizingly beautiful eyes.
"Yeah, Rems… I saw. It'll be okay. We'll both try harder, right?" Her voice was gentle, coaxing even… how could she not be moved by the incredibly tender, deep emotions that swirling through her even now that had come straight from this man?
"Oui, cher," was all he got out before losing consciousness. She let her gloved fingers linger in the shining strands of auburn hair before easing away. Rogue went to the door, propped it open slightly and called out to Dr. McCoy. He came and, no questions asked, carted Remy to the med bay. She finally gathered her towels and made her way to the showers she'd been headed for when he'd joined her. By the time he was stirring even a little, she'd all showered, dressed, and joined Hank to watch over him in the med bay.
She was still sitting there when he wakened about forty-five minutes later. "Hey there, Rems. If you wanted a break, all you had to do was say so, you know. No reason to be so dramatic," she teased.
"Dis de only way Remy get the belle cher to himself," he rasped out past his dry throat. She immediately reached for the glass of water waiting beside the bed and helped him rise before lifting it to his waiting lips. He drank a good amount of it before thanking her and moving to lie back against the pillows again.
"That was a really stupid thing to do, you know. There are better ways to tell me things… ways that don't involve risking your life." Her voice was wry, but he heard the genuine concern underlying those sardonic tones.
"Safer mebbe, but dis was much more fun," he joked. "You're worth it, Rogue. Every second of it," his voice deepened, reflecting his heartfelt sincerity.
"Well, I still think it was too dangerous and you'd better not pull a stunt like that again."
"Remy remembers, Beb. Ya' know dat, right? He's gonna hold ya' to it."
"You remember what?" she asked with some remnant hint of tenderness tingeing her voice.
"Ya' promised, cher. Remy's beb promised she'd try harder. Remy t'inks dat includes de kissin'."
"We were both going to try harder, if I recall correctly. And I know I didn't say anything about kissing."
Remy pulled her face towards his without ever moving a muscle. Merely his eyes were enough to lure her closer to him. "Oh, mon beb, je te amie… "